


Slow and Steady

by respoftw



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Drabble Collection, Hurt Clint Barton, M/M, Masturbation, Naked Cuddling, Oral Sex, naked kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5886406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 drabbles featuring Hawksilver.</p><p>Themes taken from the 30 day OTP NSFW Challenge on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cuddles (Naked)

**Author's Note:**

> Ratings and tags will change with each chapter.
> 
> It starts kind of gently.....

"Goddamnit kid, your feet are frozen, get those icicles away from me." Clint kicks his feet under the sheets, trying to escape the icy touch of Pietro's feet.

"I thought you said you were wanting to warm me up!" Pietro teased, contorting his legs so, no matter how much Clint bucked and twisted, he couldn't escape the cold.

"It was a euphemistic 'warm you up'," Clint complains. "I didn't realise you had ice powers as well as super speed!"

"I could put on socks?"

Clint shudders. "No, naked beats cold. C'mere."

Pietro grins.

Winning is nice.

Naked cuddling is better.


	2. Kiss (Naked)

Clint winces as he pulls his top over his head, throwing it to the floor with a muffled curse. Goddamn Doombots and their stupid laser fire. Well, at least Pietro isn't here to - -

"Old man, by my count I got seventeen while you only managed twelve so - - you're hurt. Why didn't you say you got hurt?"

\-- see his injury. Clint groans, and it's only seventy per cent in pain; the other thirty percent directly attributable to the lecture he no doubt has coming. "What are you doing here, Pietro? Didn't Steve have you on clean up duty?"

"He did and I have already done it. What part of super speed are you forgetting? Now shut up and tell me where it hurts."

"How can I tell you where it hurts if I have to shut up?" Clint asks, just to be difficult. Pietro's answering glare (which he's pretty sure he learned from Natasha) makes him huff in resigned acceptance. "My hip," he said, narrowing his eyes at Pietro and daring him to make a joke about old men and hip replacements. "I think one of the deathray thingies might have caught me on the hip."

Nodding in understanding, Pietro gently guides him to the middle of the room until he's standing in the ray of light shining through the bare window. "Let me see. Trousers off."

Clint can think of slightly more appealing scenarios where Pietro demands that he take his trousers off (has lived more than one) but the searing pain in his hip reaches a new crescendo and the smart words dry up as he gingerly peels the leather pants off.

As they pool to the floor, leaving him naked and shivering, Clint feels the gentle press of Pietro's fingers on his bare skin as he examines the curve of his hip, careful not to press too hard or cause any pain, the tickling warmth of Pietro's hot breath on his skin as he leans forward for a closer look.

"What's the verdict?" Clint asks, voice quivering only slightly under the weight of Pietro's attention. "Will I live?"

Pietro smiles as he straightens up, pressing close to leave a soft kiss on Clint's lips. "It's just a graze, won't even get you out of training with Sam tomorrow."

"What about tonight's extracurricular activities?"

"Hmm," Pietro pretends to ponder the question before moving in for another chaste kiss, "not until you've seen Helen and got that cleaned up." Pietro chuckles as he walks away, leaving Clint naked and half hard in the middle of the room.

"You're seriously gonna leave me like this?" Clint calls after him.

A pair of soft, comfy sweats hit his face as Pietro tosses them over on his way out the door. "Should have thought of that before you tried to hide your injury from me, old man."

Goddamn Doombots.


	3. First Time

Clint hadn't expected to have a first time with Pietro. A spray of bullets had taken away any chance of that. Until, that is, Pietro showed up alive and well in the corridors of Avengers HQ with little more than a shrug of the shoulders and a one liner about how nobody had seen this coming.

In some ways the realisation that he could have a first time with Pietro after all is more terrifying that the thought that he had missed his chance.

At least until the next time Pietro throws himself into the path of certain death.

Their first time happens while bloody and bruised and exhausted, Clint crashing his mouth against the kid's in a last ditch effort to shut him up. Hands tearing at clothes, wincing reminders of injuries and awkward fumbling that all add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.

Afterwards, lying on the hard floor of the locker room, his clothes still half on, Pietro grins and turns to Clint. "You didn't see - -"

Clint rolls his eyes and pulls Pietro's mouth towards him, feeling incredibly justified that their second time happened as a way to stop Pietro from saying that stupid catchphrase again.

 


	4. Masturbation

Pietro had expected a lot of things when he followed Clint into the showers; a screaming match about appropriate risks and how to assess them, maybe even a punch in the face for breaking orders yet again. He hadn’t expected to hear the intimately familiar sound of flesh on flesh, or the breathy, bitten off moans that accompanied it.

  
He knows that he should leave, that he should afford Clint some privacy - hell, maybe he’d be in a more relaxed mood to talk about the mission if Pietro came back later, once a little…tension had been released - but the slick sound of friction had him completely unable to move, a novel concept for him since the experiments.

  
He’s not sure if he could run, even if he wanted to. HYDRA had subjected him to a lot of different conditions to test his abilities, but making him use his speed while aroused was not one of them.

  
He wishes he could blame his reaction on some kind of Pavlovian response to the sound of getting off but the truth is that it’s the fact that these are Clint’s noises, that this is Clint pleasuring himself that have him half hard in his skintight uniform.

  
“Uh..fuck..yes..Pietro.”

  
Half hard turns to rock hard as he hears his name spill from Clint’s lips, as he hears Clint’s hips stutter, his release splash across the wet tile.

  
Pietro finds out he can run like that after all as the water shuts off and the shower door starts to swing open.

  
Five minutes later, in the privacy of his own room, sticky with his own release, Pietro starts to think that he maybe should start being more careful with himself when they’re out on the field. Life’s starting to look up.


	5. Blow Jobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this is a sequel to [Who Knew Archery Lessons Could Be So Fun?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3876451) and I will also be crossposting this as a second chapter to that fic.

“Where were we?”

 

Clint grins up at Pietro, pleased to see that he hadn't lost his _'attention'_ despite the less than welcome intrusion of Wanda and Natasha.

 

Pietro swallows, the action drawing Clint's gaze to the smooth, unmarked skin of Pietro's throat. God, he wants to get his mouth on that skin, wants to bite into it and mark it as his own, so everyone can see that this kid belongs to him. He remembers the salty taste from moments before when he was whispering instructions into Pietro's neck and almost gets distracted from his original intention. The twitch of Pietro's hips under his hands remind Clint that there's something else that he wants to get his mouth on first – something that he would already have in his mouth if they hadn't been so needlessly interrupted.

 

His hands move to finish off the job of opening the kids pants and, as Pietro's breath catches in his throat, Clint looks up at him from his place on the floor and pauses just long enough to ask if this was still OK. The look Pietro gives him reminds him just how much of a snarky pain in the ass the kid is. Clint can see the familiar roll of the eyes that is always followed by some scathing comment about his age or his ability and decides that now would be a very good time to reach into Pietro's pants and wrap his hand around a hot, hard cock.

 

Whatever Pietro had been planning to say evidently dies on his lips and all that comes out is a garbled moan of pleasure that makes Clint smirk.

 

“Well, that'll come in handy,” he grins, pleased to know that there's at least one way to shut the kid up.

 

Pietro's eyes narrow and his mouth opens again, another snarky comment no doubt already forming but Clint doesn't give him a chance to finish and instead dives in and sucks the head of Pietro's cock into his mouth.

 

Any noise that Pietro makes is lost as Clint groans loudly, his heart pounding in his ears, the musky taste of Pietro already overwhelming him. This isn't something he does regularly but Clint has sucked enough cocks to know that Pietro's was made for him. The weight on his tongue is pleasant, the girth just big enough to be the right side of maddening as Clint takes more of it into his mouth, his lips stretched just ever so slightly too much, the promised ache of a well used jaw sending shivers down his spine.

 

Pietro's hands are in his hair and Clint smiles around his mouthful, lifting one hand off of its place on Pietro's ass to tangle Pietro's fingers in his hair, showing him what he wants.

 

The sharp pain of pulled hair coupled with the dull ache of an overstretched jaw spur Clint on. He slides his way down, thankful that his time in the circus taught him all kinds of neat ways to relax his throat, until his nose brushes against the wiry white hair of Pietro's crotch.

 

He hears Pietro curse in Sokovian and hums in laughter, his eyes twinkling as the vibrations travel the length of Pietro's body until the once cocky speedster is putty under his hands.

 

Pietro doesn't last long - Clint notes the fact with pride – and the hoarse, bitten-off cry of “Clint” that accompanies the hot, salty spray of Pietro is enough for Clint to follow him over the edge, age be damned.

 

He lets Pietro's softening cock pull out of his mouth with a pop and sits back on his heels watching as Pietro struggles to get his breath back, enjoying the view of pale, muscled skin pricked with sweat and heaving with the best kind of exertion found outside of a battle.

 

“That was...not what I expected from an archery lesson,” Pietro laughs as he gets his breath back and Clint absolutely doesn't stare at how much younger and carefree it makes him look. Clint _does_ decide that he likes that look on Pietro's face, decides that he wants to see more of it.

 

Grinning, he rises from his knees and licks his way into Pietro's mouth, smiling at how responsive and open Pietro is, groaning as Pietro sucks the taste of his own release from Clint's tongue.

 

“Guess what?” Clint pulls back, raking his teeth over the pale expanse of Pietro's accommodating neck. “The lesson aint over yet....”


	6. Clothed Getting Off

Sometimes the calls are too close to handle without needing to feel Pietro's warm skin under his hands, no matter what was going on around them.

Pushing Pietro against the exposed brick wall of an out of the way alley, Clint runs his hands over ripped fabric reassuring himself that the man underneath was whole and unharmed. Pietro winces as hands brush across the flank of his left hip and Clint curses, blind and deaf to the battle raging on outside the alley, as he pulls the tattered fabric apart to take a closer look at the wound.

It's just a graze, the skin barely broken and Clint exhales in relief, his breath tickling against Pietro's exposed skin and causing the younger Avenger to shiver. Clint tracks the shiver as it makes its way up Pietro's body, eyes darkening as they reach the hard muscle of Pietro's torso, remembering another close call when that torso had been riddled with bullet holes, stained with blood and remembering how close he came to losing Pietro.

Casting an eye towards the carnage, Clint can see that the tide has turned, Hulk has entered the fray, and the Avengers are mopping things up. Grinning wickedly, he presses his body close against Pietro's own, kicking Pietro's feet apart until he fits neatly in between, grinding against Pietro, riding his thigh into oblivion while he swallows Pietro's whimpers with a kiss and - -

"I don't think we need to see the rest of the video," Steve clicks out of the video, closing down the website and turning his patented "I'm disappointed in you" gaze on Clint and Pietro as they sit, slightly dishevelled and in need of a change of a pants, in his office. "Just what possessed you both to act like that in the middle of a fight when you knew that there were cameras everywhere?"

"Um, it's Valentines Day?"

 


	7. Dressed/Naked

"Jesus, fuck - - Pietro, c'mon, you gotta..oh god..you gotta at least let me get you naked."

Clint pants heavily as Pietro's body rubs against him, the friction of rough fabric against his sensitive skin sending shivers through him.

"I don't think so," Pietro teases, his teeth scraping softly against Clint's earlobe, "I kind of like it like this. After all, the great Hawkeye isn't going to let a little thing like clothes get in the way of getting me off, right?"

Groaning with need, Clint pulls Pietro up by the neck of his maddening shirt. "Hell no. Challenge accepted."


End file.
